


we are so old, we have become young again

by dhabitude



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Molly Weasley puts the washing in without separating the colours because her son died, Nothing much really happens, Sharing a Bed, and a bath, because they're both idiots, funerals but not really, very much gay undertones except they are very much not together yet, weasley family but not all of them I suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhabitude/pseuds/dhabitude
Summary: ron and harry are grieving. neither are terribly good at it.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Kudos: 7





	we are so old, we have become young again

the war was crap, everyone knew that. the bodies in the hall and the injured not sure if they were ever going to walk or talk again knew that. the ones who lost souls, who weren't found until years after knew that. harry knew that. of course he did.

it was just,  _ god _ , ron was still so fucking funny. even after losing a brother and going through hell and back. he made harry want to live after the war. 

"bloody hell, ma!" he'd said, four days after the battle when harry should've been silent with grief. but ron had thumped down the stairs of the burrow and woken harry up with his shouting, pair of pink boxers in hand. "don't put my stuff in with gin's, god."

and it wasn't funny, not really, but harry was bored and he was tired and he wanted to feel like a kid again. ron had stuck him the finger and harry had cooed at him and his boxers.

"pah!" and then ron had thumped off back up the stairs with his nose high in the air, eyes closed. he looked quite a bit like malfoy, harry supposed, but had never got to tell ron because he'd walked into a door frame. harry felt bad when he laughed at that, too, like he wasn't allowed to not to be sad yet.

and so it continued on like this, ron laughing at harry and harry laughing at ron and hermione rolling her eyes at the both of them. they were sad, of course, in their posh dress robes at funerals and in their pyjamas in the second floor bathroom and in ron's little single bed, because harry always found it hard to sleep without his snoring. 

george and ginny would glare at them over bacon and eggs halfway through the day, closer to when the sun would set, eyes red and the two would fidget a little before going off to play quidditch or exploding snap or chess.

it took harry a while to realise that ron was sad, truly sad, and harry had felt like utter shite when he realised. he'd dealt with many a years of grief, and should've known that ron was deflecting, or something similar. hermione would know what it was called, but ron had sat in the bathtub opposite harry and begged him not to tell her. 

and so harry and ron laughed and made jokes like children again, like nobody had died yet, like they had just discovered the mirror of erised. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> very short, very faintly ron/harry !!


End file.
